Falling Angel
by FairyMage
Summary: I thought an angel fell from the sky...
1. Breath

_I'll love you more with every breath, truly, madly, deeply, do…_  
-Truly, Madly, Deeply by Savage Garden 

It was mornings like these that made life doubly worth it, the young man standing by his kitchen sink decided. Mornings when the sun shone more brilliantly than the brightest star in the night sky, when the birds sang songs more beautiful than the highest quality European violin could ever play, when the sky was bluer than the perfect pastel blue of a painter's palette. These mornings when life seemed perfect and the possibilities endless.

_Cliché_, he thought, smiling to himself. So cliché he was tempted to forget he ever thought the thought, but he let it stay. He wasn't at all cynical; he was open, smiling, accepting, and thoughts of how foolish he was for believing something so cliché washed over him without leaving a mark.

His best friend in high school called them storybook days—days so wonderful, so promising, so amazing that they could only be real in stories. Good things always happened on these days, she asserted, that was why they were so valuable. He'd laughed, and asked her if their sheer beauty wasn't reason enough for them to be valuable. After thinking a moment, she'd agreed. They _were_ beautiful, but the good things they brought with them only made them better.

"So what kind of special things happened?" he'd asked with his customary smile.

"Oh, I don't know. Dreams come true. That sort of thing."

"So what do _you_ hope will happen the next time such a day comes?"

She'd smiled wistfully and looked upwards into the sky. "I suppose… Maybe not the very next time, but on one of these days I'd like to meet my true love."

He'd laughed, but not in mockery. "A real life fairy tale?"

"Of course! Handsome prince, castle in the hills, beautiful dresses and parties, the works," she'd laughed at her own silliness. "No, but this is the sort of day you'd want it to happen on. You know what, Fujitaka?"

He'd turned to her, eyes wide. "What?"

"I think you'll meet your true love on a day like this." She'd smiled eagerly at him.

"Really?"

She nodded vigorously. "Of course! Things would work out like that for you. She'll be beautiful—I _know_ she will. Perfect in every way. That's what you'd need. You couldn't have anyone who wasn't less than perfect."

"Then I think I'm going to be looking for a long time."

"Maybe longer than I will. But it won't be forever. Nothing is forever."

That friend had grown up and moved away when they went to university. He still heard from her occasionally. They'd taken similar paths in education, although she was an elementary school teacher while he was a high school teacher. She'd only waited eight years before her storybook day came. She was married now, with two children. He barely envied her. She was right—he'd find someone eventually, but he wasn't going to push it. Things happened when they did, and there was no point holding your breath waiting for them.

He downed the last of his coffee and carefully picked his suit jacket off the back of his chair. He checked his immaculate kitchen once more, reminding himself mentally to do the breakfast dishes when he came home after school. Oh wait… never mind. Make that tonight after dinner. He had a meeting of some kind after school. He scrunched his high, pale brow in thought. That's right… Okada wanted him to meet one of his students. That was it.

The final once-over complete, he slipped on his shoes, shrugged on his jacket, and picked up his briefcase from its waiting position next to the front door. Smiling to himself, he opened his door to the bright sunlight and stepped outside. He contemplated taking the bus to the school, but decided against it. The day was so beautiful, a walk could hardly hurt him. Adjusting his glasses on his long nose, he set out in the direction of the high school where he taught, barely suppressing the desire to whistle like a schoolboy.

A perfect storybook day. He laughed out loud as he wondered if today was the day he'd meet his true love. It would make quite a story in later years, wouldn't it?

* * *

"Are you coming?" a voice called from the top of the tall flight of stairs. 

"Hai, hai!" the young woman called up to her friend.

She smiled and hurried up the stairs with her customary grace. Her long hair and skirt flowed around her as she moved, catching the eye of more than one fellow student. Her bookbag hung heavy from her left shoulder, but her face and body showed no sign of physical exertion. She tripped up the final two stairs lightly, catching herself on the top one. With a little laugh she stumbled forward, nearly knocking her friend over.

"Ah!" she cried, reaching for the falling girl. Despite her best attempts, the girl fell anyway, a tumbling mess of hair, bookbag, and uniform skirt.

"Ohaiyo, Sonomi," she greeted in her sweet, calm voice, smiling up from the ground. She stood up, brushing herself off, waving away the offers of help and cries of sympathy.

"Morning to you, too, Nadeshiko. What took you so long?" Sonomi asked, as she started down a hallway towards her first class that morning. Little stumbles like that were natural, normal, and completely expected from Nadeshiko. Sonomi had seen enough of them to know that Nadeshiko was not hurt, and that she'd simply brush it off as though nothing had happened.

"Oh, nothing. I was standing in my kitchen, looking at the colors the stained glass panel made on the tile floor. It was so beautiful…" she murmured longingly, dreamily looking up at the bright white ceiling of the high school hallway.

Sonomi sighed, barely concealing her exasperation. "That's what took you so long this morning? I missed the bus waiting for you!"

"Did you?" she asked, turning to look at her friend with wide eyes. "I'm sorry about that, Sonomi. I really didn't mean for that to happen. I was just looking at the colors on my floor, and then I saw the sky out of my kitchen window, and I had to stop and look."

"_Had_ to?" Sonomi asked incredulously.

"Absolutely. Haven't you ever absolutely _had_ to do something?"

Sonomi snorted. "Like the history paper last semester? Or the chemistry lab last night? Yes."

"Not like that Sonomi… oh, you know what I mean, you just don't want to admit it. Something told me today was going to be a special day, that's all. I wanted to know what it was."

"And did you find out? Then at least I'd feel better about missing the bus," Sonomi chided, tone softening barely. As gruff and practical as Sonomi seemed, she had a soft spot for her daydreaming best friend. Maybe more than a soft spot—she loved her best friend with all her heart. Nadeshiko was the pride and joy of the family, and Sonomi couldn't help but love her too.

"No," she replied sadly, head hanging slightly, allowing her dark curls to partially curtain her delicate face. "I didn't. But I'm sure I'll find out soon," she replied cheerfully, looking up and smiling.

"You'd better hurry to class now," Sonomi scolded, gently pushing her friend towards her classroom.

"Ah, yes, I suppose so."

"What are you doing after school? Maybe we could go out together…?"

"I'm sorry, Sonomi-chan. I'm going out to eat with Okada-sensei and one of his friends, another teacher. Oh! But you could walk with me a little ways after school!"

Sonomi nodded. It didn't surprise her that Nadeshiko was being invited out by the teachers; she was an excellent and beloved student. The teacher that hadn't yet met her… well, that was his loss. "That's all right. I'll see you tonight, then?"

"Of course. When are you coming over?"

Sonomi shrugged. "Probably after eight."

She nodded in agreement. "All right then."

* * *

"Nadeshiko! What are you doing? It's dangerous! Come down!" Sonomi ordered helplessly from her place on the ground. _The _ground. Where Nadeshiko should have been.

Instead, while Sonomi's back had been turned, she'd somehow managed to scamper up a tree to see a bird's nest. Quite frankly, Sonomi was surprised she'd made it that far. She would've expected Nadeshiko to trip over one of the cracks in the sidewalk before she ever made it up the tree. But apparently the bird's nest was too important for her to miss. Some strange force had kept her upright all the way into the high branches—and Sonomi was appropriately distraught.

"It's all right. The branches are stable. Just a moment…" she murmured, reaching a slim white hand out towards the nest.

For just a moment, time stopped. Even Sonomi was entranced. The nest contained only two baby birds. Sonomi could barely see from where she was standing, but there was something captivating about the scene. Something perfect about that moment, as Nadeshiko's fingers brushed the rough twine of the nest, her eyes lit up with joy as she smiled. The sunlight catching in the leaves and in her hair, filtering pale beams of light to leave patterns on Nadeshiko's ivory skin and dark skirt. Sonomi had never seen anything quite so amazing as that moment.

She would always remember that moment just before the fall.

But at the time, she nearly forgot about the beauty of the moment as she faintly heard the branch creaking. So today wasn't charmed in any way—Nadeshiko would fall anyway. Her own panicked voice cut the silence as she cried Nadeshiko's name.

"Nadeshiko!"

There wasn't even a moment for Nadeshiko to look up, for Sonomi to caught surprise and the inevitable laughter in her eyes. Nadeshiko always laughed. Even when she was falling, even after she fell, that bright smile was always on her face. The next thing Sonomi knew, Nadeshiko was on the ground in a flurry of skirt, shoes, and hair.

She hurried over, but stopped when she saw that something had broken Nadeshiko's fall.

No, correction—some_one_ had broken Nadeshiko's fall. And now he was sitting up, smiling at her best friend.

Sonomi would always remember the moment just after the fall, too.

* * *

The final bell rang, signaling the end of the school day. Normally, he'd take his time in his room, carefully tidying up his desk, straightening his papers, sweeping the floor. Today, though, he took a quick, cursory glance around the room to make sure everything looked decent, mentally apologizing to the janitors for not sweeping his floor like he usually would. Then he grabbed his jacket and briefcase and hurried outside. Okada would be waiting for him, punctual man that he was.

He decided to walk along the east side of the school, where the large trees grew. The day was growing warm, thanks to the friendly sun, and the trees would provide some welcome shade. What he wasn't expecting, however, was for something to fall from the trees.

Actually, it was a some_one_ that fell on him, he noted as he sat up, brushing dirt from his pants and shirt.

"Are you all right?" a pretty, female voice asked.

Eyes wide, he looked down at the girl in his lap. She'd fallen from one of the branches overlooking the sidewalk, one of the branches with a bird's nest perched on the end. She was stunningly beautiful. Her dark curls cascaded over her shoulders and down to her waist. Her eyes were used to smiling—they held a light and a joy that could only come from smiling. Right now, though, her eyes were wide and anxious as she attempted to make sure he was, indeed, all right. He noticed that she was wearing the high school uniform.

But it really was her eyes that captivated him. They were large, dark, and deep. They held joy, laughter, smiles—not a trace of pain or fear or sorrow. Just happiness. A happiness that ran so deep in her nature, it _was _her. She was happiness, she was light, she was joy. Even after such a spectacular fall, her eyes still held smiles. They were innocent, naïve, honest smiles. They were smiles that spoke of love and affection and curiosity, smiles that hid nothing behind them. Her smiles were as necessary as the air she breathed… if ever her ability to smile was lost, then she herself would be lost.

The words from high school came back to him… _"… you'll meet your true love on a day like this… perfect in every way… nothing is forever…"_

"Yes," he replied at last, smiling.

_You're wrong_, he mentally told his friend. _Some things are forever._ This girl's smiles… were forever. They were life. They were air. And he was breathing deeply.

"I thought an angel fell from the sky."


	2. Dream

AUTHOR'S NOTE: Look what I churned out in less than 4 hours! Sorry if it seems a little unfinished… I really wanted to get this chapter out before I left for AX. 

Thanks to **Convoy Butterfly**, **mowrin**, and **MoshiMoshiQueen** for your reviews! Replies are on my LJ; link to said LJ can be found at the bottom of my profile.

_"One, you're like a dream come true…"_  
-Back at One by Brian McKnight 

She'd had dreams before, of course. _Those_ kind, the special kind. As a little girl, she'd had dreams of the future. Once, she'd dreamt of a summer day at her grandfather's house by the lake. She and Sonomi, her cousin, had been out in the woods, dressed in white sundresses. She remembered details perfectly. Sonomi's hair had just been cut, sharp angles and lines framing her sharp-featured face. Her white dress was decorated with large, bold red roses. She, on the other hand, had loosely tied her hair back in a ponytail. The loose curls got caught occasionally as they ran past trees and bushes. Her dress was covered in tiny pink flowers, so small she couldn't tell what kind they were. In just one night she dreamt a whole day in those dresses—from skipping stones across the pond to picking flowers in the garden to jumping into the lake.

It had been a night in late January, during a snowstorm.

Six months later, one August day, she and Sonomi walked out of their adjacent rooms at the summer house. They were wearing white sundresses, Sonomi's with red roses, Nadeshiko's with tiny pink flowers. They went out that day, skipping rocks, picking flowers, jumping in the lake.

She never told anyone about her dreams, of course. They wouldn't understand. Besides, she liked to keep them to herself. It was like her special secret, an entire dreamworld that only she could see. She imagined eventually she would share her secrets, but it had to be with the right person. Not just any person—not just her mother or Sonomi, even if Sonomi was her best friend. No, it had to be someone that understood that the dreams were _real_.

To her dismay, the dreams became less frequent and detailed as she grew older. By the time she was twelve, she could barely remember the dreams, able to remember only vague sensations like happiness. After her thirteenth birthday, she'd stopped having dreams at all. If she did dream, they were normal, everyday sort of dreams. Those vague, fuzzy, confusing ones that really don't amount to anything—nothing at all like what she'd once known.

She'd never been one for moping or complaining, so she took the disappearance of her psychic dreams in stride. She never forgot, of course, but she learned to do without. When she turned fifteen, she started dreaming again. But this time, there was only one dream that repeated itself once a month, with great regularity.

She knew she was off the ground. Probably in a tree, on a branch. Gold sunlight filtered through the thick foliage, leaving its intricate, stenciled pattern over her pale hands and clothes. She recognized the dark skirt as the one she would wear when she went to the high school. Faintly she could hear Sonomi's voice calling to her. Her ears, however, were trained on the sound of footsteps approaching. They were loud, but not overbearing, in her ears. An even, confident, yet light and joyful tread. She could tell that whoever was walking would walk right below the branch she was on, and that she could get a clear view if she looked down. But for some reason, she couldn't. She couldn't move. Her eyes were fixed on the pattern of light and leaves directly in front of her, the sound of footsteps ringing in her ears.

It was that sound that truly transfixed her. She didn't dare move, for fear of losing the steady, even rhythm. She closed her eyes, tilting her head back, reveling in the simple sound. She didn't reach out to stop herself when she felt her skirt slip, when she felt the rough branch scrape against the back of her thighs as she began to slide off the branch. She let herself fall through the air, entire being focused only on the sound of footsteps.

Then everything went dark, and in the darkness, a beautiful voice said something she would never forget—a voice and words with which she fell in love.

"_I thought an angel fell from the sky."

* * *

_

After leaving the girl and her friend behind (earning a glare from the friend—what had he done wrong?) he hurried onward, certain that Okada and his student would already be at the restaurant waiting for him. He shook his head and ran a hand through his pale hair, trying to calm himself.

What had just happened? It was an interesting question, one he didn't even think he could answer. He'd always been a bit of a romantic, so he appreciated the beauty of the words… but what possessed him to say them was beyond his knowledge. He'd _thought_ such thoughts many times, but had never found the right person to say them to. And then—a high school student dropped from a tree and he spit them out!

He resolved not to think of the incident now and instead focus on the upcoming meeting. It wasn't such an important meeting, but he would _make_ it important. At least it would help get his mind off the pretty girl from the tree.

Or so he thought.

Like all good closet romantics, Fujitaka was a daydreamer. This morning in his kitchen had only been the tip of the iceberg, and the storybook day had only gotten better. As he walked, he found himself thinking absently of the dark-haired girl. How soft and silky her hair and skin were, how bright and laughing her eyes. How much he wanted to know, to understand, to be part of the happiness and joy behind her eyes. He let his mind and thoughts wander, thinking absently yet avidly about the girl he'd just met. He was so lost in his daydreams he nearly missed the restaurant he was supposed to meet Okada at.

Smiling sheepishly but good-naturedly, he backtracked a few steps and opened the door. Okada grinned broadly at him, letting Fujitaka know he'd seen the little slip-up. Fujitaka laughed and went over to greet his friend, sliding into a wooden chair after a warm handshake.

"It appears my student is a bit late," Okada apologized, smiling. "She's like that, you know."

"She?" Fujitaka asked curiously. Okada had never introduced him to a female student before.

"Yes, I know. Not like me at all, is it? She's quite smart though. A little on the naïve side, I grant you, but intelligent and thoughtful all the same. I thought you'd like her…" Though Fujitaka didn't know it, Okada was tempted to add, "Like you," to his comments, but kept his mouth shut. He really _did_ think Fujitaka would make an excellent senior advisor for his student, if only because they were so much alike.

"Ah, well in that case…" Fujitaka smiled his sweet, gracious smile and nodded. "I'd be glad to meet her."

A loud clatter outside followed by a voice faintly whining caught their attention. Fujitaka was instantly on his feet and headed for the door, looking to help whoever or whatever had met misfortune. Okada merely sat and shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

"_That_ would be her," he murmured, almost amused, to no one in particular. "And _that_, Fujitaka," he continued as he watched his friend kneel down beside the fallen girl, "is why I want you to be her mentor."

* * *

"This just isn't your day, is it?" Fujitaka asked with a smile as he knelt beside the dark-haired girl, resting his left hand lightly on her shoulder.

She laughed—a bright, refreshing laugh filled with summer and sunshine—and replied, "If you ask Sonomi-chan, no day is my day."

"And yet every day is," Sonomi murmured under her breath, so that Fujitaka had to strain to hear it. The comment escaped Nadeshiko's hearing entirely.

"Please, don't worry about me," Nadeshiko smiled brightly. "It happens often." She made no attempt, however, to stand or brush away Fujitaka's comforting hand. Sonomi coughed loudly and glared at Fujitaka, who took notice but didn't know what he had done to incur her wrath. Again, Nadeshiko remained oblivious to her cousin.

Slowly, almost reluctantly, Nadeshiko made to stand. Fujitaka offered her his other hand, and she gladly took it. Sonomi's eyes narrowed—experience told her that Nadeshiko rarely needed a helping hand to get up.

"Oh, I'm sure I'm late for my meeting now…" Nadeshiko murmured, hurrying past Fujitaka into the restaurant. Fujitaka paused briefly, intelligent brain oddly slow to put together the pieces…

"Stay away from my cousin," Sonomi hissed, venom filling her every word.

"I had no intention of doing anything," he said honestly, holding his hands up in defense.

"Hmph. Just don't go near her again." And with that the other girl turned on her heel, stalking away from Fujitaka.

Shaking his head, puzzled, he turned and headed back into the restaurant. He was only slightly surprised to see the dark-haired girl sitting at the table with Okada, across from where he would be sitting. He dusted off his jacket and made his way back to the table.

"Fujitaka, this is the student I wanted you to meet," Okada said, standing to introduce the two.

The girl looked up, eyes wide and innocent. Fujitaka smiled. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced today."

"Kinomoto Fujitaka," Okada announced.

"Kinomoto-sensei," she murmured. "I'm so sorry!" she burst out suddenly, clasping his outstretched hand. "I'm terribly sorry about earlier today…"

He laughed good-naturedly. "Don't worry about it at all. I'm no worse off for it… In fact, I think it only made my day better."

She flushed slightly and shook his hand firmly, yet delicately. "Amamiya Nadeshiko."

"Nadeshiko-san is going to be a senior next year. I was hoping you would consider being her senior advisor…?" Okada took the fact that they seemed to have met earlier in stride, not allowing it to ruffle him.

"Of course. It would be my pleasure. If Amamiya-san would agree…?"

"I'd like that very much," she agreed, smiling prettily.

Okada smiled in relief—his naïve, innocent student had an advisor, and his smiling, too-kind friend had someone to advise. So far, so good… "Well, now that that's all settled, why don't we get to know each other over food?"

Fujitaka chuckled and sat back down, motioning for Nadeshiko to do the same. "Providing the brilliant suggestion, as always?"

"Doumou arigatou, Okada-sensei," Nadeshiko whispered to her teacher.

"It was nothing," he assured her. "You and Kinomoto-sensei will get along brilliantly."

The sparkles in her eyes were agreement enough from her.

* * *

As she lay in bed that night the memory came back, the same as before. Only this time, it was different… more real, more vivid—a dream come true. She could smell and feel and hear as never before…

She was off the ground, floating, flying, perched in the tree branch, hand outstretched towards the tiny baby birds hiding in the nest. Gold sunlight filtered through the thick foliage, leaving its intricate, stenciled pattern over her pale hands and clothes. She traced one of the gold streaks with a finger, marveling at its fresh purity. Her high school uniform was flared out around her, hanging around her knees, dangling off the branch. She could hear Sonomi clearly, calling to her, telling her to get out of the tree. But now she _knew_ to listen for the sounds of the approaching footsteps. They were soft, gentle, yet strong and dominant in her ears. An even, confident, yet light and joyful tread—so much like the man who made them. Soon he would be right below her, and she gently craned her neck to look down on him, on his tall, upright frame and light sandy hair. Now she could move freely, knowing what was happening. Her eyes darted back up cautiously to the pattern of gold and emerald before her, then back down to the man walking beneath her.

No longer was it the sound that transfixed her, but the vision of him coming closer. She didn't move, for fear of losing sight of him amidst the leaves even for a moment, and then losing sight of him entirely. Her eyes were wide open as she watched him come, slowly able to make out his gentle, kind features and careless, unknowing smile. She didn't reach out to stop herself when she felt her skirt slip, when she felt the rough branch scrape against the back of her thighs as she began to slide off the branch. She let herself fall through the air, entire being focused only on the man she knew would be there.

In the light she saw images flash before her eyes: a young boy, dark haired like her, serious and yet laughing, reaching out to her, pleading with her; a little girl, barely three years old, green-eyed and brown-haired, confusion evident in her young eyes; and then him, smiling through a film of tears, clasping her white hand in his and mouthing words she could not yet understand.

Sunlight broke through the visions as she saw the tree above her, not mocking her in her fall, but gracing her landing. The impact was not hard, the jolt not sudden. It was as if the air had carried her down from the boughs and laid her in his lap.

"_I thought an angel fell from the sky."_

She looked up into Kinomoto Fujitaka's face, and smiled.


	3. Flight

_"You showed me faith  
Is not blind  
I don't need wings  
To help me fly…"  
_-Miracles Happen by Myra

It had been several weeks since he'd met Nadeshiko, and he hadn't set up their first official meeting yet. There always seemed to be a reason not to do it—he had too much work, there would be a test that week, his second-year students would be holding tutoring sessions, he and Okada would be going to Kyoto for the weekend… simple, stupid, trivial things that got in the way of something far more important.

Deep in his heart, Fujitaka knew he was just stalling. His meeting with Nadeshiko would be important—more important, he sensed, than anything else he had done so far. It would be a turning point in his life, one he'd spent the years since high school waiting for. One of those events he hadn't rushed when they were still theoretical, still only possibilities, but now that it was real, waiting, he wanted to rush headlong into it. Of course, he kept that urge at bay by focusing on nondescript, boring things. Yes, that would keep him safe.

Exactly what was he protecting himself from, anyway? He had never been one to be hurt easily, or even at all. Throughout his younger years he'd always been open, honest, trusting, and it had never failed him. Maybe there were never any risks as big as this one, never any cliffs so high with so far to fall. He'd never been scared to fall before. Why now?

Because this was important. Because this… _this was love._

That realization had been awhile in coming. He'd refused to admit it to himself. Certainly Nadeshiko was the sort of girl he'd always secretly imagined he'd marry, or fall in love with… but he'd never thought she'd appear so perfectly, that she'd _exist_ so perfectly. Her mere existence shocked and pleased him beyond belief. He'd spent the two days after meeting Nadeshiko in something like a dream-state, a perpetual daydream broken only by the necessity that he teach his students something. The sun's light was brighter, purer than before, the birds' songs sweeter, more melodic, the sky bluer and clearer than after a storm. For those two days his heart had soared higher than the trees, weaving in and out of the clouds and sunbeams.

But his happy daydream had been shattered by the realization of the impossibility of such a relationship. Everyone knew the Amamiya family was rich, well-endowed by generations of hard work and enviable business skills. He was a poor bachelor, with no family and the pitiful income of a high school teacher—an income that served him quite nicely, but one that he knew would hardly support another. Wealth spoke volumes, and right now it was telling Fujitaka quite loudly that Nadeshiko was above and beyond him. And then there was the fact that he was a teacher at the high school where Nadeshiko was a student. The age difference alone would prove scandalous and unacceptable to many. His heart's happy flight was brought to a screeching, crashing, fiery halt.

So that was why he was only somewhat surprised that Nadeshiko approached him about setting up a meeting. She came in one day after school, as he was absently packing his bag and dusting the floor. She stood silently by his desk, examining the papers strewn across it as he swept the back of the room, unaware that she was even there.

"Kinomoto-sensei," her clear voice startled him, and he turned quickly.

"Ah… Amamiya-san…" he stammered, taken by surprise. He emptied the dustpan and put the broom back in its corner as he moved towards his desk.

"Why don't you have anything on your desk?" she asked, gesturing to the shiny wood paneling.

"Well, I always have my papers and school things," he explained with a smile, sweeping the loose papers into an orderly stack and filing them away in his bag. He straightened the remaining piles and organized them neatly, leaving the desk virtually bare.

"But you don't have pictures, or little knick-knacks, or anything," she frowned, running her long fingers over the light-colored wood.

"I don't have any, I suppose. What can I help you with?" he asked, returning to the reason for her visit.

"I'll have to bring you some," she murmured absently. "Oh! Yes, I came because we haven't set up a meeting yet, and I know most of my friends have already met with their senior advisors…"

"I'm terribly sorry about that, Amamiya-san—"

"Call me Nadeshiko, please."

"Nadeshiko-san. I've been so busy recently…" It was only partially a lie.

"I know. Teachers are busy people. So I was wondering… if you were busy this weekend?"

He racked his brains, rapidly going through his calendar mentally, half-hoping he would find something buried in the depths of his memory. Nothing came to mind. Nothing. And yet… it didn't bother him at all. With a genuine smile, he turned his attention back to his visitor. "Iie, Nadeshiko-san. I don't believe I have anything to do this weekend."

"Then you would be able to go out for a picnic tomorrow?"

The proposal momentarily shocked him; she hadn't requested a library or coffee shop meeting, as most students did. _But then_, he thought to himself with a secret smile. _Did you expect anything less?_

"I'll make the lunch," she offered. "If you tell me where you live I'll come by when I'm ready. We can go to the park or by Tsukimine Shrine. Would it be all right?" she asked, anxiously looking up at him for confirmation.

"Ah," he smiled again. "It would be fine, Nadeshiko-san. Let me find you a piece of paper so I can write my address down for you. My house is near the river, so we can have lunch there instead." His heart was light, the wings he had thought lost found again and repaired.

As he stood on the sidewalk waving good-bye to her as she ran off in the opposite direction, he realized he'd forgotten to remind her to bring her paperwork and transcripts.

---------------

"You're _what!_" Sonomi shrieked.

"Calm down, Sonomi-chan," Nadeshiko chided with a little laugh and a wave of her hand. "It's nothing."

"_Calm down? It's nothing?_ Nadeshiko!" Sonomi screamed. "How _could_ you?"

Nadeshiko looked up at the ceiling, expression decidedly bewildered. "It was really easy, Sonomi-chan. I just went to his room after school and asked him if he was busy this weekend. Then he walked me to the front gate," she beamed happily. Sonomi fumed.

"You're not _listening_ to me _are_ you?" Sonomi snapped. "Don't you get it? You can't just go asking him out on a date!"

"Huh?" Nadeshiko asked, more confused than ever. "It's not a date, Sonomi. What makes you think that?"

Sonomi snorted. "_You_ may not think it's a date, but I'm sure he will."

"Oh no," Nadeshiko shook her head, laughing. "Kinomoto-sensei was really nice about it. He laughed and said that he didn't have anything to do. He seemed a little confused at first…"

"Probably because he knew it was wrong," Sonomi muttered under her breath.

"It'll be so nice, Sonomi! I'm going to make lunch!" Sonomi's eyes widened. She _almost_ felt bad enough for Kinomoto-sensei to warn him about Nadeshiko's cooking, but she quickly dismissed that thought. He _deserved_ to suffer through her cooking.

"Sonomi-chan?" Nadeshiko asked, peering into Sonomi's eyes. Smiling, she spun around and danced towards the door. "Well, I'm going to bed. See you in the morning!"

"Oh, you're staying the night? I didn't know—ah, Nadeshiko!"

"I'm all right," Nadeshiko reassured Sonomi with a little laugh, rubbing her shoulder where she'd bumped it on the doorframe. She stood (_without_ any trouble or help, Sonomi noted angrily), waved to Sonomi, and scampered off to her room.

Sighing, Sonomi pulled out a stool and sat down, propping her chin on her hands. She frowned as she considered what had happened. She and Nadeshiko had always been close, as the only two children in the Amamiya family that were close in age. They'd grown up together, lived with each other (as Nadeshiko was tonight), spent their summers together at their grandfather's mansion in the country. They were best friends, closest sisters, twin stars. Sonomi was supposed to be the person closest to Nadeshiko's heart, the one who knew exactly what she was thinking and feeling. But right now, Nadeshiko was a blank slate. Sonomi could no more tell what she was feeling than she could say what they would have for dinner in a week.

For the first time, Sonomi was not privy to Nadeshiko's innermost thoughts.

Sonomi was not used to not being part of Nadeshiko's life. But here she was—former best friend, former confidant—_former_, part of the past. She didn't like where Nadeshiko's future was going, because it didn't include her. She'd always assumed that Nadeshiko would be devoted to her family—the family that raised her when she had no parents, the family that had always accepted her clumsiness and absent-mindedness, the family that loved her more than anything else. Nadeshiko was the heart and soul of the Amamiya family, and now she threatened to fly beyond their reach… beyond Sonomi's reach.

And Sonomi simply wouldn't have that.

-------------

Nadeshiko hurried down the sidewalk, swinging the picnic basket in her hand. She was excited—she could feel her heart fluttering in her breast, could feel the tingling at the tips of her fingers and toes, could feel the butterflies clamoring in her stomach. She didn't know why, but the prospect of spending the afternoon with the quiet, smiling teacher excited her.

Well, no, she knew why. She'd known since she'd first identified him as the man in her dream.

She came upon the quiet, quaint house in the middle of the block. It was nondescript but cheerful and clean. She pushed open the gate and came upon the bare lawn. She frowned. There was so much room here; why didn't he have flowers or trees planted? She resolved to come back and plant flowers for him—nadeshiko flowers, her personal favorites, would look beautiful. And a cherry tree in the middle, so that the sakura would bloom in the spring… Smiling at the prospect of her new project, she tripped lightly up the two steps to the door. Surprisingly, she managed to ring the doorbell without incident; the lunch remained safely clutched in her hands.

"Ohaiyo, Kinomoto-sensei," she greeted, smiling up at him when he answered the door.

"Ah, Nadeshiko-san! Come in." He stepped aside and held the door for her. She stepped in and set her basket down beside the door, slipping out of her shoes at the same time.

"I'm almost ready," he called from the kitchen. She followed the sound of his voice across the soft plush carpet to the polished wood floors of the kitchen. He was standing at a counter, chopping vegetables neatly and with great precision. A pile of wrapped riceballs sat to his right, waiting to be packed away into the lunch basket.

"You didn't need to make anything," she chided gently. "That was my job."

"But I couldn't let you do it all yourself. I wouldn't feel right," he countered, smiling at her. "Here, bring the basket." She darted away and returned momentarily, wicker basket clutched in her hands. She handed it to him, and he carefully laid his offerings atop hers.

"All right. Are you ready?" he asked perfunctorily, already reaching for a light jacket and his shoes. She nodded, and together they walked out into the sunshine.

-------------

The river was quiet, a surprisingly few number of people taking advantage of the beautiful weather. They sat down in the shade of a tree and watched the river run its course, babbling and laughing to itself, a conversation kept secret from the rest of the world. She set down the basket and began removing items from it; he took the paper plates from her hands and set them out. Then he served her, placing perfectly proportioned amounts of food on each plate. After handing her one of them, he sat back and picked up his first piece of chicken.

If he weren't overly polite by nature, he would've spit out the food. As it was, he was sorely tempted to turn away and quietly deposit the mouthful in a napkin. He was, after all, only human…

"It's terrible, isn't it?" Nadeshiko asked, plate balanced delicately in her hands.

"Ah… well… terrible isn't _quite_ the right adjective…" he attempted to be diplomatic. "Although, honestly, Nadeshiko-san… we still have my onigiri, don't we?"

She laughed and waved it off. "No, no, don't worry about it. I've known for a long time that I can't cook, but no one's ever told me. Not even my family," she murmured wistfully. "So I just keep cooking, waiting for someone to tell me. I know it's the thought that's important, but goodness! If it's that bad… You're the first person to ever tell me." She cocked her head, contemplatively smiling. "Thank you."

"For what?" he asked, setting his plate down and reaching for his riceballs and vegetables.

She reached out and stopped the hand holding the food, laying her own hand over his. "For being honest."

He smiled and laid his other hand over hers, squeezing it slightly. "That's hardly anything to thank me for. I'm the one who should be thanking you… because it _is_ the thought that counts. Thank you for inviting me today, Nadeshiko-san, and thank you for working so hard on the lunch."

"Even if it tastes terrible?"

"Even if it tastes terrible."

Their laughter flew over the dry rustling grass, up through the boughs of the trees, over the flowing water of the river. It carried with it a sound and a feeling so sweet that its meaning was as secret as that of the rambling river's conversation. As Fujitaka listened to the echo of their laughter, he looked down into Nadeshiko's dark shining eyes. He could feel the lightness in his chest and knew that his heart was gone, soaring, carried away to heights he dared not dream of.


	4. Time

"_What day is it?  
And in what month?  
This clock never seemed so alive…"_  
-You and Me by Lifehouse

Days.

Minutes.

Months.

Hours.

Weeks.

Seconds.

They passed without him realizing it, one easily sliding into the next and then into the next, like water flowing over a pebbled riverbed. He allowed himself to be carried along with the current, never stopping, never thinking to stop, never putting his hand out to seek something that interrupted the ever-onward flow. Occasionally there were boulders, pausing him long enough in his movement so that they became distinct images in his mind.

There was the day he met her, the golden sunlight and green leaves still vividly painted in his mind. There was the picnic, the sunny, light day at the riverbank, her tinkling laugh still echoing deliciously in his ears. And then there were more days, more pictures, more moving, shifting kaleidoscopes that he knew, without being told, that he would remember forever.

Even if this came to nothing, he would remember forever her smile and her laugh, the light in her eyes and the honey in her voice.

Before he knew it, his desk was adorned with several small trinkets, evidence of a family he no longer had, a life he did not live, love that no one knew he had. The first was an empty picture frame, a plain, varnished cherry-wood one. He couldn't remember exactly when it had appeared, but it was after the picnic and before the appearance of the silk plush maneki neko that made him smile every time he saw it, eyes closed in smile, paw waving at him. The frame remained empty; he had no picture with which to fill it, but the wood was too pretty to deserve a hiding place in his humble home. A carved owl paperweight, "intelligent as he," she said, watched over his papers with a vigilant eye. He laughing told her he wished it could double-check all of his corrections.

Then there was a daruma, one of its eyes already colored in. He smiled and asked her how she knew what his wish was; she replied that it wasn't his wish, but hers that she was waiting to come true.

His students inevitably noticed the change. Where once there had only been stacks of papers and tests there were now a small number of knick-knacks, the sort of things they might see on other teachers' desks—but never Kinomoto-sensei. They whispered amongst themselves that he'd found a girlfriend, or a long-lost sibling, the stories as romantic as they could spin them. When he heard snatches of the modern day fairy tales he smiled inwardly; they sounded ridiculous, but he couldn't help but think that the truth was equally as romantic.

Finally, one day a student got up the courage to ask. Midway through a lecture on ancient India, a girl in the third row raised her hand.

"Yes, Minami-san?"

"Sensei, where did you get that frame? And is there a picture in it? And if so, whose is it?"

He fought the urge to laugh as someone muttered, "Geez, can you _be_ any more obvious?"

Instead, he smiled and asked her from whom she thought he'd gotten it.

"Well… I personally subscribe to the theory that you've finally found someone that you've fallen absolutely madly in love with."

"Really?" he asked, amused, setting the chalk in the tray and leaning against his desk, studying his students amiably. "There are theories about this?"

"Oh yes," Minami-san continued eagerly, earning embarrassed laughs and grins from her fellow students. "I mean, there are variations of course, but the two prevailing theories are that you've fallen madly in love with some absolutely beautiful and perfect woman or that you've been reunited with a long-lost sibling." Nothing new, at least. "We all agree that it must have been love at first sight; you wouldn't be any other way, sensei." That earned a chuckle from him and relieved laughs and smiles from the students.

"Well, I'm sure the stories will only get better the less I tell you," he teased, turning to return to the board.

"Oh, sensei! Tell us!" Minami-san begged.

He shook his head firmly. "I want to hear how all these stories turn out. Someone remember to tell me at the end of the year." He picked up his chalk again and began writing notes.

"It's a girl," someone asserted. Murmurs of assent followed. "He'd tell us otherwise."

He set down his chalk again and turned back to his distracted students. "And if it is? What is she like? What is her favorite color? Where was our first date? Or have we had a proper date yet? What's her job?" He smiled benignly at his silent, awed audience. "You need to finish the story properly. Don't just leave it at, 'It's a girl.' Really, I thought Emiya-sensei taught you better than that." The class laughed at the reference to the writing teacher.

"She must be pretty…" a girl in the second row, Takahashi-san, offered.

"But _how_ pretty? In what way? You see what I mean, about finishing the story? Now, I'm going back to ancient India. You're all welcome to continue speculating, but I expect you to know this material. And," he added as an afterthought, "I'm _not_ telling you the truth about the picture frame. Not yet."

The students fell quiet and he could hear the scratch of pencils against his voice as he lectured. They remained so as he passed out the paper assignment and went over the requirements. As soon as he dismissed them, they broke into a frenzied buzz, eagerly congregating to discuss their teacher, paper forgotten, naturally, until the night before it was due.

As they filed out, chattering away, he began to clean up his desk and pack his bag, petting the plush maneki neko absently. He was well used to its presence by now. Smiling, he shut the door behind him, ready to head home.

Emiya-sensei would be proud of him, he thought as he tripped lightly down the stairs.

------------

She'd found something new for him, something that had caught her eye over the weekend while shopping. She no longer took Sonomi with her on all her trips; after the first time she'd picked up something for his desk, Sonomi had become suspicious and asked after it. She'd been able to avoid intense interrogation, but she solved the problem by leaving Sonomi out of the loop.

Part of her was regretful; Sonomi had been her best friend, for years and years. Forever, it seemed, they'd been together, through all of Nadeshiko's dreams and memories. And now, suddenly, there was someone new, someone that called louder and more strongly than the tomboy-ish cousin who'd been raised with and had raised her.

But, she reminded herself, this was important. This was forever, all eternity that she had within her grasp—and there was no reason she shouldn't reach out to take hold of it.

All day during school she heard the vicious and lively chatter of her fellows; they were all speculating on the giver of the little ornaments that now adorned Kinomoto-sensei's desk, and had been for weeks. Sonomi had given her a sideways glance when the rumors had first cropped up, but Nadeshiko had only smiled her trademark smile and said nothing. She suspected that Sonomi still knew, because Sonomi was smart and could put two and three together to get five, but Sonomi said nothing.

Today's gossip was decidedly different. There was a new electricity to it, a new current coursing through the student population. Apparently yesterday Kinomoto-sensei had challenged them to continue the rumors, and to bring the completed project to him at the end of the year. Now the creative gears of students were running wildly as they sought to make up a suitable story. Others were simply trying to read into the teacher's challenge, wondering what it meant about whether or not it was a girlfriend.

Smiling, she waltzed on by, seemingly completely oblivious to it all. The door to his classroom as slightly ajar; there was no class in session any more, but he was still there, and would welcome students who requested assistance or conversation. She slid the door open and stepped inside, picking her way around the desks. He looked up when she entered, then lowered his head again and went back to scribbling. She didn't mind; she knew he wasn't ignoring her. It was what happened when he was particularly inspired or interested in something, and she respected his academic pursuits.

She sat at a desk in the first row and watched him, admiring the way he could smile through such a serious expression. He was concentrating, occasionally flipping through several books lying open on his desk, then going back to the sheets of paper before him, but his eyes were smiling. She loved that. It meant that even during the serious times he could smile.

When he was finished with the thought he lay down his pen and rubbed his eyes. She stood and changed positions, sitting on the desk, swinging her legs. She'd closed the classroom door behind her. There was hardly anyone left in the halls to notice or overhear them, but she wanted to keep this a secret between the two of them. She was a romantic, yes, but she was also practical.

"Hello, Nadeshiko-san. What brings you here today?" His brow was furrowed, probably trying to remember if she'd asked him for anything as her advisor that he'd forgotten. "Did you ask me for something?"

"Oh, no," she replied with a smile, fighting the urge to finger the new gift in her pocket. "I have some time before I need to go home; Sonomi has something today after school, and I'm going to wait for her. I didn't want to wait by myself, that's all."

He nodded. "I wouldn't want you waiting by yourself, either. It isn't safe."

She smiled, then changed the subject. "I heard about the discussion in your class yesterday."

"I'm not surprised. It turned out rather differently than I had hoped."

"I find it all very amusing," she mused, wandering to a window to look out. "They're so concerned with you, and what your life is like. Why do you suppose that is? Why aren't they worried about their own lives?"

"You're high school students. You won't worry about how your own lives turn out until you're in college, or older," he explained, joining her at the window.

"Some of the stories are so romantic, though. I think that the stories are just reflections—"

"—of what they hope to have someday," he finished for her, smiling. She smiled back. They were kindred thinkers, she'd discovered, and she never minded letting him complete her thoughts.

"I think some of the stories are so much better than the truth," she lamented softly, watching some of her classmates playing football on the lawn. They would eventually be chased off by a proctor or teacher in order to preserve the environmental beauty of the campus, but for now they were allowed to have their fun.

"Why?" he asked curiously. "I rather like the truth."

"You don't think it'd be more interesting for you to be in love with a famous actress working in Tokyo on a major movie? A woman that you love, who loves you, but whom you can't be with because the papers and photographers would tear you apart? And so instead you exchange gifts through the mail?"

"It would make a splendid novel, certainly. But no. I rather like the truth. Though I never want anyone to find out the truth, of course."

"Why not?" She wondered if it was because he was frightened by the power and status of her family. She didn't want him to avoid her, to refuse to let this go farther because people thought they shouldn't be together.

Because that's what she wanted, ultimately. After enough time had passed, after she was old enough and after people had come to accept them, she wanted this to be forever. She knew it, deep in her bones and in her heart and in her soul.

"I like secrets, maybe," he offered nonchalantly.

She understood, and let it go. It warmed her inside, this veiled protectiveness. She reached into her pocket and withdrew the small, tissue-paper wrapped bundle she'd stayed for.

"Here. I found this, and I thought it would look lovely on your desk." He took it from her curiously, studying its shape and unwrapping it.

A miniature clock, made of wood and silver sat in his palm. It was beautiful and elegant, and Nadeshiko could see from his expression that he loved it.

"Was it expensive?" he asked, almost automatically. He always asked it; she knew he didn't like her spending money on him.

"Not particularly. I was looking for something else, and I saw it, and I couldn't help but think that it would be so much nicer than the ugly clocks they have hanging on the walls of the classrooms."

"Thank you, Nadeshiko-san. I'll definitely have to find something for you on my trip."

"Trip?" she queried, taking it upon herself to move the things on his desk to make a place for the clock, even removing it from his grasp to set it down. "Is that what you're doing all this work for?" she asked, gesturing to the paper and book strewn desk.

"Yes. I'm traveling to China next month to do some research for a paper I'm writing."

"You write papers?" she asked, honestly amazed. "I thought that was something only college professors had time for."

"Well, then I'm getting a good start. I'd like to move up to the university level, someday."

"You'd be a wonderful professor," she complimented

"I'm glad you think so."

She leaned over to peer at the new clock on his desk. "It's time for me to go. Goodness, I can't believe it got so late so quickly."

He settled back down at his desk, picking up his pen again. "I still have some work to do, unfortunately. Will you be all right?"

"Yes," she assured him, leaving the door open just a crack, the way she'd found it.

She met Sonomi on the front steps, impatiently tapping her foot and fumbling with her bookbag. When Sonomi asked where she'd been, Nadeshiko replied, "I was watching the boys play football."


End file.
